


The Manly Art of Fainting

by ereshai



Series: Various Prompt Fills [28]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, Getting Together, Hospitals, M/M, Minor Injuries, Prompt Fill, Publicity, Swooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ereshai/pseuds/ereshai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil wakes up in a hospital bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pinky Swear - Clint/Phil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icywind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icywind/gifts).



> Written for a prompt (and previously posted) on tumblr - "You fainted...straight into my arms. You know if you wanted my attention you didn't have to go to such extremes."  
> I did two fills for this prompt.

Phil came awake slowly. It took him a few moments, but he was able to figure out where he was fairly quickly. The uncomfortable bed, the stiff sheets, and the scent of antiseptic and lemon hanging in the air could mean only one thing - SHIELD Medical.

He opened his eyes. Sunlight peeked around the edges of the closed blinds on the window; if he was lucky, he’d only been out for a few hours. He turned his head and found Clint Barton staring at him, a grim smirk on his face.

That smile could only mean one thing. “Tell me I didn’t…”

“Yep. You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Clint shifted in his chair and leaned forward, his forearms propped on his knees. His smile faded. Maybe Phil was imagining the worry in Clint’s eyes. He hoped not.

“Making sure your team is taken care of after a fubar mission like that is awesome, but ignoring your own wounds until you pass out from shock and blood loss isn’t actually that impressive, Coulson.”

“How else was I going to end up in your arms, Barton?” Phil tried to put them back on the slightly playful level Clint had started their conversation with, but Clint just shook his head.

“This isn’t a joke, Phil. Fury says if you pull another stunt like this, you’ll be riding a desk until you learn your lesson.”

“Shit.” Nick knew how much Phil hated desk work.

“If that isn’t enough for you, you do something like this again, and Natasha’s going to have a little talk with you.”

“Shit,” he said again. If Natasha was worried enough to make threats, it must have been pretty bad.

“Exactly.” Clint sat back in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. “Okay then. Now that you’re awake, I’m going to get cleaned up.”

He got up to leave and Phil held up his hand. “Clint, wait.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to worry you. Any of you.”

Clint nodded. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he mumbled.

“Clint,” he began, then paused. He had no idea how to say what he wanted to say. He wasn’t even sure if it was really the right time to say it. “Clint,” he tried again. “It wasn’t entirely a joke.”

“What?”

“Passing out was unintentional, but since I did, I’m glad you’re the one who caught me.” He smiled. “I am a little upset that I don’t remember any of it.”

Clint sat down heavily. “Really?” He sounded skeptical and hopeful at the same time.

“Really. When I get out of here, I’d like to have dinner with you.”

Stunned silence followed his statement. He waited for Clint’s response - it wouldn’t help to push for an answer.

“Okay,” Clint finally said. “But first, I want you to promise you won’t do this again.” He waved his hand at Phil. “This not taking care of yourself thing. Okay?”

“I promise.”

Clint held out his hand, little finger extended. “Pinky swear?”

Phil hooked his finger around Clint’s. “Pinky swear.”

Clint nodded decisively. “Good. You know what happens when you break a pinky swear.”

Phil had no idea, but he nodded anyway. He had no intention of breaking this promise. His eyelids started to feel heavy and he forced them to stay open.

“You get some more rest and I’ll come back when I don’t smell like the back end of a garbage truck.”

Phil closed his eyes and fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	2. Sleeping Beauty and Spangles - Clint/Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is very familiar with PR events. It doesn't mean he likes them.

Clint’s eyes rolled back and he started to crumple to the ground. Steve, standing right next to him, quickly swept him up in his arms, ignoring the stunned looks on the reporters’ faces.

“Make a hole, people,” he barked and strode forward. The crowd scrambled to get out of his way. A quinjet was standing by, its ramp open. Steve marched quickly up into the vehicle.

“Take off as soon as we’re clear,” he told the pilot. He laid Clint down on the biobed and strapped him in.

Clint’s eyes fluttered open. “What? What happened?” he groaned.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Clint dropped the groggy act immediately. “I have better ways of getting your attention,” he said with a smirk.

“Then what was the Sleeping Beauty act all about?”

“Please. _I_ didn’t want to be there. _You_ didn’t want to be there. I don’t know why you keep agreeing to do these appearances.” Clint struggled to reach the clasp on the strap, but he couldn’t quite reach it.

“As Avengers, we have a responsibility to use our celebrity to benefit-”

“Yada yada yada. That sounds like something straight out of the SHIELD PR manual. You hate those things. I just found us a way to leave early without tarnishing your all-American reputation. You can thank me any time.”

“Yeah, I do hate the dancing monkey act,” Steve said with a sigh. “So thanks.” He leaned down gave Clint a lingering kiss.

“You’re welcome,” Clint said a little breathlessly. “You wanna let me out of this thing?” He tugged at the strap holding him down.

“Not just yet,” Steve said. “First I think you need a little lesson.”

“What kind of lesson?” Clint asked warily.

“A lesson in not worrying your boyfriend with fake fainting spells.”

Clint’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, that kind of lesson. Bring it on, Spangles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first ever Clint/Steve ficlet. :)


End file.
